


Lazy Evening

by calenlily



Series: Amended AU [5]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon-atypical happiness, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Playful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26914801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenlily/pseuds/calenlily
Summary: Buffy wakes, naked between silk sheets, and smiles to herself as the simple pleasure of the sensation reminds her where she is. More than a month after moving in, it still amazes her every time she remembers that she gets to call this home now.
Relationships: Angel/Buffy Summers
Series: Amended AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909063
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	Lazy Evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melacka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/gifts).



> Nebulous timeline sometime during the summer following a much kinder version of s3 where the curse is no longer an issue.
> 
> (Part of my Amended AU, but as per usual with smutfics for this series can be read as a stand-alone.)

Buffy wakes, naked between silk sheets, and smiles to herself as the simple pleasure of the sensation reminds her where she is. More than a month after moving in, it still amazes her every time she remembers that she gets to call this home now. Over the past weeks, she’s gained a new appreciation for her boyfriend’s tactile nature; the shirts she’s so fond of stealing from him (hey, a girl’s gotta have a hobby) tend to be of similarly decadent fabrics. She’d be tempted to tease him about his taste for silk and velvet and leather, only she knows too well how few indulgences Angel allows himself.

She stretches slowly, savoring the feel of the fabric sliding over her skin, and wonders if she’s becoming spoiled. Of course, if she is, that’s really not the biggest issue. Such luxuries pale in comparison to the simple sensation of her lover’s cool body beside her – but that’s a pleasure she has to forgo for the moment. Since she’s switched over to keeping a nocturnal schedule, Angel is nearly always up before her. He’d made an effort to stick around at first, in deference to the insecurities the previous year had left her with, but those fears have eased with time. Now she understands that getting up at the crack of dusk is simply how he operates, while she’s not about to give up her lazy teenager prerogative to sleep in.

With a yawn, she turns to the window, and pulls back one edge of the heavy drapes to look out over the town. The sun is mostly down, but the orange-gold glow of the horizon says there’s some time yet before full dark. Feeling self-indulgent, she turns over and decides she can afford to doze a while longer.

The next time she wakes, she is brought gradually back to consciousness by the sensation of a gentle hand running over her hair. Sleepily she rolls closer to her lover. She feels so relaxed and comfortable, she doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t even want to open her eyes.

“Angel?” she murmurs.

He leans over and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“Not really. ‘Sides, I can’t think of a nicer way to wake up,” she replies, stifling a yawn. “Don’ be sorry.”

“You just looked so peaceful like that. I couldn’t resist,” he says.

She smiles, content for the moment to bask in his affection. Then she stretches and rubs at bleary eyes. “How late’s’it?” she mumbles semi-coherently.

Fortunately, he’s well versed in translating her sleepy-talk. “A little after eight.”

“M’kay,” Buffy says. She considers for a moment. “Told the guys we’d show at the Bronze ... probably won’t be expected till nine, nine-thirty, so no real rush....”

Angel laughs, recognizing a leading statement when he hears one, and softly taps her head. “What are you thinking?”

She gives him an innocent, pouty look. Then she reaches out, clasping his large hand in her smaller one. “Come to bed?”

“Of course, love.”

He stretches out beside her and she curls in close, settling herself half on top of him with one leg between his and her head on his chest. She raises her head to kiss him long and lazily. His hands stroke over her back, and she hums with the sensual pleasure of the touch.

As the kiss deepens, she writhes in his embrace and bucks against his thigh. She slips her hands up under his shirt to skim her fingertips along his side with a featherlight touch.

“Want you,” she moans.

He gently disentangles himself from her and stands to undress. She props herself on one arm to watch with undisguised hunger as his body is exposed to her view, his cock standing hard and proud before her.

He smirks wickedly at the unabashed heat in her gaze. “Is this what you want?”

She just whines and reaches out to him. She admires the predatory grace in his movement as he stalks back to the bed and kneels over her.

There’s a glint in his eye that says he’s in a teasing mood. His hands cover hers, pinning her wrists above her head. On hands and knees he hovers over her, his cock inches from her face, and she licks her lips in anticipation as she eyes him hungrily.

But when she tilts her head forward to take him in her mouth, he shifts his hips back, moving out of her reach. She strains forward as best she can and just manages to stroke the tip of her tongue over the head of his cock. She gets in two more effortful licks as still he denies her, and whimpers in frustration.

He eases forward just enough to allow her to swirl her tongue around his head and suck it between her lips. It’s still so much less than she wants, and she pleads, “More.”

Finally he pushes all the way into her mouth. She can feel his smug amusement at her desperation as he muses aloud, “I wonder how much you can take.”

She closes her mouth around him, putting firm pressure all along the length of his shaft as he thrusts in – not especially hard or fast, but going deep enough that she has to focus on taking it.

The angle is unforgiving, and it’s a struggle to suppress her gag reflex each time the head of his cock nudges at the back of her throat. Any minute now she’s going to have to push him away. Any minute now, but she can’t resist the little sounds of pleasure he makes, so she pushes herself to keep going just a little bit longer, a little bit more....

He lets out a ragged gasp and then stops remembering to breathe entirely, and she knows he’s on the edge. There’s nothing that gets her hot like the feeling of how powerfully she can affect him, and she’s seized with a sudden determination to make him come with her mouth alone. It’s getting easier to take him as her arousal builds; she redoubles her efforts, pushing forward to meet each thrust and tightening her lips around the base of his cock, and is rewarded with his answering moan.

When he comes, he’s deep enough in her throat that she can’t actually taste the first of it, only feel the contractions rippling through his shaft. She wants to, so she slowly pulls back until her lips are just encircling the ridge of his head and caresses it with her tongue as he fills her mouth in cool spurts.

His hand moves to gently stroke her hair. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That wasn’t meant to be the main event.”

“Don’t be,” she replies, feeling very pleased with herself despite the fact that she’s empty and aching, so damn desperate to be filled that she can hardly think. She knows Angel will take care of her. He always does.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because he is hardening again even as she licks the last drops of seed from his tip and she gives a silent thanks for vampire stamina.

He settles onto his side and pulls her up so he can kiss her. Buffy opens to him gladly, letting his tongue stroke at hers as she relaxes against his chest and tangles her legs with his. One of his hands curves around her ass, pulling her in closer, while the other cradles the back of her head.

She moans into his mouth and rolls her hips against him, hungry, needy. He squeezes her ass momentarily, and then his hand moves down and around to slip between her legs. His fingertips stroke over her lower lips, spreading the slickness that spills abundantly from her core.

“A little wet,” he observes dryly. As if he doesn’t know exactly what he does to her. As if he isn’t well aware of how much sucking his cock turns her on.

His fingertips circle her entrance, and then two long fingers ease into her tight channel. He pumps them into her hard and fast, and she finds herself gasping for breath and clutching at his shoulders while her legs automatically fall open to give him better access.

The sensation is near-overwhelmingly intense, and he’s hitting all the right spots, but his fingers aren’t what she wants and he knows it. “Angel, please,” she gasps out.

“Please, what? More?” He drives into her harder. If she were a normal human she’s pretty sure she’d be bruised.

“No. Want _you_ , all of you.” She could almost scream in frustration. He’s going to make her spell it out. “Inside me. Want your cock filling me up.”

He withdraws his hand, and makes a show of licking his fingers clean. She whimpers. “Angel!”

Finally, _finally_ he lowers himself over her. She reaches out an impatient hand, strokes it over the length of his erection and guides him to her entrance. He groans as he sinks into the heat of her core, and she locks her legs around him to hold him there.

She rocks against him, savoring the sensation of how deep he fills her, how full. God, it’s like he was made to fit into her. “Mmmmm,” she moans in satisfaction. “Ohhh yeah, that’s it.”

“I aim to please,” he purrs.

 _That he certainly does_ , Buffy thinks, but does not say aloud because she can practically hear the smirk in his voice as it is.

He bends his head to catch her lips in a lingering kiss, sucking at her bottom lip and lightly teasing her tongue while she writhes beneath him. His arms cradle her close, holding her to him as he rolls her on top of him.

His lips move from her mouth to trail light kisses along her jaw and down her neck. His hands slide around her sides to hold her in place as he lavishes attention on one breast and then the other. She moans and buries her hands in his hair, clasping his head to her chest. 

When she lets him go, his hands around her waist urge her upright until she is sitting astride him while he lays flat on his back. His low moan vibrates through her as she rises up and sinks down onto him again and again, and as she watches his eyes actually roll back.

Buffy leans forward, bracing her hands on either side of his shoulders. Her hair cascades down between them, swaying as she moves, and he raises his hands to cup the breasts now in easy reach. She is gasping now, the exertion of her movements stealing her breath, so she brings her lips down on his, seeking out the cool oasis of his mouth before hers goes dry.

Eventually she breaks the kiss and straightens up again, sitting back in a way that pushes him deeper inside her. She draws in a ragged breath and throws her head back as she moves over him.

Angel lifts his head from the pillows, craning his neck forward. For a minute she just watches him watching her. Then, flicking her hair back over her shoulder and out of her way, she too leans forward and follows his gaze to take in the sight of where his cock enters her, the thick rod of flesh appearing and disappearing between their bodies. A frisson of fire runs up her spine, and unconsciously she increases her pace.

He watches her with eyes gone heated and dark, an expression of bliss and wonder that gets to her like nothing else. She finds herself wondering what it is about this position he likes so much: the easy access to her breasts? The ability to see her face, to watch her expressions of pleasure? The undeniably erotic view of himself sliding in and out of her? Or the way in this position she has all the control and that her use of that power is to eagerly impale herself on him again and again?

“What are you thinking?” he asks, as if sensing her musings. His hands slide up her sides, blessedly cool against her sweat-slicked skin.

She’s not sure how to put her thoughts into words, so she lets a pleased murmur express her feelings. “Mmm. Just....” She rises up until just the tip of his cock is teasing at her entrance, then clenches around him as she sinks down all the way. “Enjoying you.” The strangled noise he lets out makes her feel indescribably powerful.

“The same for me,” he says, the low murmur of his voice wrapping her in warmth. “The feel of you above me, surrounding me ... watching you ride me to your pleasure ... you are so beautiful.”

Part of her wants to draw out their lovemaking forever, savoring every sensation of their bodies moving in harmony. Another part of her is greedy for a faster pace, more stimulation, more intensity, _now_ , and she is torn between the two.

In the end, impatience wins. She leans back to find an angle that hits just right and grabs onto his hands for leverage as she comes down faster, harder. Frantically she moves over him, chasing her pleasure towards its peak. She squeezes the muscles of her sheath around the length of him, speeding his climax so that when she tumbles over the edge into ecstasy he comes right along with her.

Spent, she collapses onto him, sprawling over his chest. His arms pull her close, and for a time she’s too boneless and sated to do anything but hum in contentment and nuzzle into the touch when his hand strokes her hair.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when the memory that she had plans for the evening intrudes on the haze of afterglow. “Oh god,” she groans. “We’re gonna be so late.”

“Should I be sorry?” Angel asks, not sounding sorry at all.

Grinning, Buffy shakes her head. “ _So_ worth it.”


End file.
